


when two sons of war collide

by voltair



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Chariot Races, Explicit Sexual Content, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Iwaizumi (Son of Ares), M/M, No beta we die like wwx, Oikawa (Son of Athena), Rivals to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Smut, They're demigods, idk how to tag shit forgive me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23927812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voltair/pseuds/voltair
Summary: They were only partnered up for the chariot race as a punishment from Chiron. They didn't expect to be met with so many love and lust-related realizations.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 14
Kudos: 330





	when two sons of war collide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palindrome19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palindrome19/gifts).



> commissioned by @hamahtamayo on twitter! i hope you like it!

“Children of Athena still don’t sleep very much?” Iwaizumi says, leaning on the doorway and looking around with mild interest as he waits for Oikawa to finish stocking the scrolls he was reading back to their rightful places. 

“Sleeping can wait.” Oikawa brushes past him, faintly smelling of books and something strawberry. “Knowledge can’t.”

Snorting to himself, Iwaizumi turns to follow Oikawa, dodging a stray arrow and glaring at the sheepish newcomer from the Apollo cabin. Hinata, if he recalls correctly. Was claimed pretty quickly. Maybe Apollo was in a good mood. The gloomy son of Hades, Kageyama Tobio, was quick to cuff him at the back of his head. 

“I don’t even know why we have to partner up for the chariot race,” Iwaizumi murmurs darkly under his breath, thumbing the hilt of his sword.

Although the sport was previously forbidden, the Apollo cabin had somehow managed to convince Chiron to hold the game again in celebration of one of their cabinmates, Konoha Akinori, returning safely from a quest.

“It’s a punishment, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says matter-of-factly, that tone and that stupid nickname all serving to make Iwaizumi release an annoyed grunt. “It’s supposed to be unpleasant.”

“Yeah, well.” Iwaizumi shrugs, side-eyeing the commotion his cabin mate Bokuto Koutarou was making (Is that a _scorpion_ he was holding?). “At least I’m the attacker.”

Oikawa stops, turning around to face Iwaizumi with a saccharine smile on his stupidly pretty face. 

“ _I’m_ the attacker.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze narrows. He takes a step closer, smirking in satisfaction when Oikawa steps back cautiously.

“ _I’m_ the son of a war god, pretty boy,” Iwaizumi reminds him lowly. “When it comes to beating the shit out of people astride a chariot, we’re the fucking masters here.”

“In case you forgot,” Oikawa snarks, stepping up with a haughty expression on his face, “my mother is the war goddess of battle strategy. I can beat the shit out of people while being smart about it. People can actually use their brains for fighting, in case you’re not informed.” 

Iwaizumi’s glare turns dangerous, feeling the familiar mixture of rage and excitement crawling up his spine at the challenge only Oikawa is capable of provoking before they’re interrupted by a group of shrieking Aphrodite girls running past them, chased by a laughing Bokuto who was still holding a scorpion.

Huffing, Oikawa backs away first. 

“Come on, himbo Iwa-chan. We need to plan.”

-

“Hey counselor,” Taketora whistles from the entrance, interrupting the arm wrestling competition between an unbearably smug Iwaizumi and a groaning Bokuto. “Wise Boy is looking for you.”

Taking a huge gulp from his jug of water with his free hand, he ends the fight by slamming Bokuto’s hand down on the rickety table they were using, effortlessly shattering the flimsy wood into pieces as his cabin mates howled in boisterous cheers and laughter.

Iwaizumi pats the moping Bokuto’s shoulder in consolation before heading out, wiping at his face with a face towel as he hears Taketora say _“Stop trying, loser. He’s unbeatable.”_ before an answering _“Shut up, nerd!”_ was heard and the familiar sound of roughhousing begins. 

Oikawa wrinkles his nose in distaste when he sees Iwaizumi, the sleeveless muscle tee the Ares cabin counselor is wearing soaked with sweat.

“Geez, you really are a barbarian, aren’t you, Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi flips him off. Oikawa muffles a chuckle under his fist before clearing his throat. 

“Do you want to see the sketch of the chariot?” Oikawa asks, staring weirdly when Iwaizumi promptly pours the remaining water in his jug over his head, sighing in relief at the coolness that washed over him. 

“So much effort,” Iwaizumi grunts, “Just grab some wood and get on with it.”

Oikawa sighs morosely and looks at him as if he’s a moron. Iwaizumi resists the urge to smack him on the head. 

“Fine,” Iwaizumi sighs, “show it to me.”

-

Iwaizumi is leaning against the gray walls of Cabin Six when Oikawa comes out holding a scroll, gesturing for Iwaizumi to follow him to the Mess Hall. They sat down at a table when they arrived, Oikawa spreading out the scroll for Iwaizumi to see.

“We’re using skeleton horses like you suggested,” Oikawa says as he outlines the drawing with the tip of his finger, listing the materials to be used for the construction of the admittedly awesome looking chariot as Iwaizumi listens with half an ear, distracted by the strands of hair brushing Oikawa’s nape.

“Your hair grew,” Iwaizumi blurts out without much thinking. Oikawa isn’t sidetracked, only pausing to comb his fingers through his hair briefly before murmuring a “Yeah, I should probably get it cut.” and proceeding to continue with his lengthy explanation as if he never stopped. 

Iwaizumi’s attention is fully diverted away from Oikawa’s rambling from that point. He’s inexplicably focused on the fact that Oikawa’s hair is growing longer, framing his irritatingly handsome face in a way that only accentuated the regal beauty of his features. 

When Oikawa arrived at camp, he was immediately popular. Terrifyingly intelligent, devastatingly beautiful _and_ naturally charming? Everybody loved him.

Iwaizumi hated him the moment he laid eyes on him. They never did see eye to eye, what with the competitiveness that manifested around their relationship the minute they interacted during Oikawa’s first Capture the Flag game. Iwaizumi had knocked the then newcomer on his ass, the tip of his sword pointing at the grey-eyed glare reminiscent of Athena herself. 

They were self-proclaimed rivals after that, Oikawa finding out about Iwaizumi’s stereotypical short fuse and doing all he can to annoy him. Iwaizumi retaliates by being unashamedly proud of the fact that Oikawa has never once won in a sword fight against him, something that grated on Oikawa’s prideful nerves to no end. 

Capture the Flag was always fun with these two as the captains, Iwaizumi’s fiery red clashing against Oikawa’s steely blue resulting in a truly spectacular competition. The fact that they were also evenly matched in the volleyball court only fueled everyone’s amusement regarding the long-lasting feud that persisted even as the two passed the age of 18 despite having gone through a number of quests together already. Being chewed out by Chiron in the Big House is a regular thing for them both. 

And if the campers sometimes find them bickering half-heartedly during lazy afternoons near the Canoe Lake, nobody says anything about it. When someone hears Iwaizumi muttering angrily about stupid sons of Zeus (hint: Ushiwaka) trying to court stupid sons of Athena (hint: Oikawa), they keep silent. When someone sees Oikawa stabbing angrily at his food and scoffing about delusional daughters of Aphrodite vying for a certain son of Ares’s affections, their mouth remains sealed.

After all, no one is stupid enough to ask two of the most skilled fighters in Camp Half-Blood if they have a little something between them. Not even Mr. D.

“Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan. _Iwa-chan._ ”

Iwaizumi snaps into attention, greeted by Oikawa's displeased pout.

“I know your boorish self can’t possibly hope to grasp the complex intricacy of this masterpiece of a vehicle I’ve designed, but please do try to keep up,” Oikawa sniffs impatiently. Iwaizumi’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance. 

Iwaizumi waves him off. “As long as it’s going to be able to handle me while I’m out on a fuckin’ rampage, it’s fine.”

Oikawa clicks his tongue, slamming his palms on the table in a manner that was supposed to be intimidating, probably, but Iwaizumi finds himself grinning in hilarity anyway.

“Focus while I’m talking, himbo.”

Iwaizumi leans forward, not stopping until their noses are almost touching. 

“Not a chance, Wise Boy.”

Tension crackles in the air, this time intermingling with something… new. Maybe it was the fact that Oikawa’s gaze always lingered a little too long on Iwaizumi’s bare arms after a sparring session, or that Iwaizumi always watched a little too closely whenever he sees Oikawa practicing by himself in the arena, his trademark twin daggers slashing flawlessly through the air. 

“Hey, have you seen—woah, ooh lala.”

Their heads turn to the direction of the voice at the same time to see the counselor of the Hermes cabin wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at them both.

“Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa greets politely, determinedly not looking in Iwaizumi’s direction. Iwaizumi does himself the favor of keeping his gaze trained somewhere else.

“I was just going to ask if you’ve seen my Brokuto, but it seems I’ve arrived at a bad time.” Judging by the glint in Kuroo’s eyes, the whole camp is probably going to hear about this tomorrow. “Please forgive my untimely intervention and continue maintaining your kiss-close distance.”

They can still hear Kuroo’s squawking laughter even as he leaves, the palpable tension from earlier replaced by intolerable awkwardness. 

Iwaizumi stands up, rubbing the back of his neck and leaving after muttering a half-assed excuse about how the Ares cabin is probably demolished by this point due to Bokuto and Taketora’s play-fighting.

What in the name of Hades was _that_ all about?

-

Iwaizumi scales the climbing wall to distract himself from thoughts of not-Oikawa and proceeds to spend the rest of his free time sparring with Aone Takanobu from the Hephaestus cabin. He's nowhere near Iwaizumi's level, but his strength more than made up for his lack of technique. It was a tireless match, and Iwaizumi's attention is successfully diverted. 

They only stopped during dinnertime. The meal was spent with Tanaka regaling the table with tales of how he sent Laistrygonians running during his recent quest while Kyoutani, a fairly new camper and only just recently claimed, sits by Iwaizumi’s side quietly, growling at everyone who tried to talk to him. 

Iwaizumi, for the life of him, couldn’t keep his eyes off Oikawa. Was it just him, or had his hair gotten longer? 

He could tell that the son of Athena was avoiding his gaze, judging by how quickly the latter had looked away when he accidentally glanced at Iwaizumi’s direction. Iwaizumi doesn’t know why, but he felt a strange satisfaction at seeing the faint blush on those cheeks and the visible motion of his Adam’s apple after that brief happenstance. 

Oikawa had looked relieved when they weren’t pitted against each other for the unarmed combat competition. Oikawa never looked his way even as Iwaizumi’s stare burned right through him during the campfire sing along. 

Hours later, he’s lying at his bed, wide awake as the loud snores of his siblings fill the room. He feels restless, daunted by a new realization and a foreign spark, not unlike the moment he first hears _“Your brain is hardwired for Ancient Greek. Your ADHD is all those battle reflexes waiting to let loose.”_

Risking the wrath of Chiron if he finds out that Iwaizumi is lurking around after curfew, he climbs out of his mattress and straps his sword on just in case the harpies decide to get friendly. He steps out of the cabin and closes the door quietly, making sure not to make any noise as he sneaks towards the Canoe Lake, successfully arriving without being detected. 

However, someone is already there.

He spots Oikawa’s hunched figure at once, the Cabin Six counselor sitting by himself and watching the still waters silently.

“Drachma for your thoughts?”

Oikawa jolts a little in surprise, scowling when Iwaizumi laughs at him before sitting down, a respectable distance away. 

“Who would’ve thought?” Iwaizumi muses. “Rule freak Oikawa Tooru sneaking out after curfew. I ought to report you.”

“I can report you too,” Oikawa bites back. Iwaizumi slants him a crooked grin and says nothing in response, shifting closer as a sudden rush of boldness overcomes him. He doesn’t miss the way Oikawa’s shoulders tense. He frowns in response. 

“Oikawa,” he murmurs, breath unnervingly close to Oikawa’s neck. “Relax.”

Oikawa releases a shuddering exhale, letting some of the tension escape his body at Iwaizumi’s admonition. 

“I _am_ relaxed, stupid Iwa-chan.”

They sit in silence after that, just two demigods basking in the protection the camp brings them. 

“Do you miss it?” 

Oikawa doesn’t respond immediately.

“Miss what?”

“The outside world.”

Oikawa laughs dryly. “A world where monsters can sniff me out like a pie on a windowsill? Where I was kicked out of every school I’ve ever been in? Where kids looked at me as if I was a freak?” Oikawa shakes his head, chuckling bitterly. “No thanks.”

“No.” Oikawa looks at him in confusion. “The world. Cellphones. Netflix. Japan. Mount Fuji. Shibuya Crossing. Tsukiji fish market. Train stations. Anime. ”

Oikawa is silent for a while. 

“Sometimes,” Oikawa finally says, gaze turning wistful as a breeze passes by. “But then I wake up in my bunk. Get our cabin ready for inspection. Study Ancient Greek. Polish armor. Go winged horseback riding with a grumpy Kenma. Discuss architecture with my siblings. Train for quests.”

Oikawa looks up at the stars, eyes shining. 

“And I realize I belong here.”

Iwaizumi stares, an indescribable mixture of emotions swirling inside him as he ponders Oikawa's words.

He tries to imagine a life other than this. Living elsewhere, a place that isn't cloaked by a faint scent of strawberries. No Capture the Flag games. Never seeing the majestic Olympus that resides on top of the Empire State Building. No life-changing quests you don't escape unscathed from. 

He can't.

Oikawa is right. They belong here, right in this sanctuary for demigods with nowhere else to go, a magical border separating them from the world that doesn't want them. This is their safe haven. Camp Half-Blood. Delphi Strawberry Service, as the mortals know them. 

The silence is comfortable after that, just them looking up at the dark expanse of the night sky as if they haven’t spent most of their lives dancing around in frankly superficial animosity.

“You remember our first quest together?” Iwaizumi asks suddenly, propping himself up on his elbows. They somehow ended up with their backs on the gravel. 

Oikawa’s gaze remains fixed on the starry night as he says, “Where we had to rescue Argus from one of your father’s twisted underlings. Yes, I remember.”

Oikawa thumbs the bead shaped like an eye on his necklace as his eyes grow foggy with memories of sleepless nights, endless bickering, near-death experiences and a tense meeting between Iwaizumi and Ares himself while Oikawa awkwardly munched on a taco in the background, jealous at the fact that Iwaizumi met his godly parent and Oikawa didn’t.

“I thought we wouldn’t come back alive,” Iwaizumi confesses, looking down at Oikawa. Oikawa meets his gaze, breath catching at their close proximity. 

“Well, we’re here now, aren’t we?” Oikawa mumbles. He tries to look away.

Feeling stupidly brave all of a sudden, he captures Oikawa’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting the latter’s head until their gazes meet.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi rasps out, throat dry. “We’re here now.”

“What are you doing, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa breathes out, voice trembling. Iwaizumi can’t bring himself to stop touching him. 

“I don’t know,” he responds hoarsely, honestly. 

They hear a shrill squeak of a nearby harpie and are on their feet in a second, faces still flushed as they make a dash for their respective cabins, hearts beating furiously.

-

The race is about to start. 

The amphitheater is going _wild_ , each camper showing their support for their fellow cabin mates by waving banners and shouting their names. Tanaka and Taketora had their chests painted with **_Iwaizumi_ ** and **_Hajime_ **. Bokuto somehow managed to steal a trombone from the Apollo cabin and is playing rather horribly while Kyoutani waves a small red flag with a terribly drawn boar half-heartedly. The rest of his cabin mates hoisted a big, dark red banner with more terribly drawn boars.

Oikawa’s cabin mates are not to be bested, it seems. Their banner is marvelously done; a royal shade of blue plastered with a realistic, white pen drawing of Oikawa and Tsukishima, only showing their eyes and their heads that were adorned with crowns, their owl insignia acting as the crown jewel.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Show-offs.

Although they _are_ tame in comparison to Apollo cabin’s flashy yellow banner that is capable of blinding everyone. 

Iwaizumi studies their opponents while Oikawa readies himself in the driver’s seat, his grip easy on the electric spear he requested Aone to make in exchange for a month’s worth of armor polishing duty. 

Hinata from the Apollo cabin and Kageyama from the Hades cabin. Their chariot looks rickety, a confusing blend of deep black and vibrant yellow. Hinata is sporting a harsh gold shield that turns blinding under the glare of the sun, their most advantageous feature. Kageyama looks ready to murder the tracks, an almost frightening look of resolve contrasting his partner's cheery countenance. 

The Miya twins from the Dionysus cabin. Whether or not that grapevine chariot is stable, nobody knows. Osamu, the attacker, is empty-handed, but knowing Atsumu, they probably have some fart bombs in store. Tear gasses are not out of the question either. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi, son of Zeus, and Tendou Satori, son of Hermes. Their chariot is only second best to Oikawa and Iwaizumi's, no doubt built with the help of their close friend from the Hephaestus cabin, Reon. Ushijima is wielding a formidable long sword, crackling with suppressed bouts of lightning energy. 

Suna Rintarou of the Aphrodite cabin and Kita Shinsuke of the Demeter cabin. Their chariot is definitely the most pleasing to look at, tendrils of flower vines creeping along the rosewood exterior. Suna seems to be planning on putting his archery skills to action, staring impassively at the cheering crowd with his bow and arrow at the ready.

Tsukishima Kei, son of Athena, and Yamaguchi Tadashi, son of Poseidon. One of the strongest participants today. Their chariot is stunning, decorated with pretty shells and a row of tridents surrounding the sides for protection. Tsukishima is holding a slingshot, something Iwaizumi laughed at earlier before Oikawa reminded him that Tsukishima is too smart to use ordinary rocks. 

And of course, everyone has Greek fire bombs. Chiron looks ready to call off the game at any moment, but with all this hype in the air, everyone might just skin him alive if he does. Mr. D looks perfectly content playing poker under the shade of an umbrella held by an excited satyr.

Iwaizumi catches Oikawa gesturing for him to come nearer and obeys.

“Aim for the wheels,” Oikawa whispers. Iwaizumi leans in closer to hear him better through the shouting of the crowd. “Ushiwaka’s chariot’s weak spot is the wheels. Not corded tightly enough. Watch out for any sort of explosives from the twins on the left and keep your shield up at all times.” 

Iwaizumi nods, already straightening up when Oikawa grabs a hold of his armor. 

“Be careful.” 

Iwaizumi wants to kiss him. 

Instead, he smirks and puts his helmet on as the horn blares and the crowd roars, looking every bit like the glorified hero he is. 

“Just do a good job, driver.”

—

“You’re a good driver,” Iwaizumi mutters, probably half-dead as he lies on the infirmary bed along with the other attackers from the chariot race who were all sporting an injury or two. Or three. Or a hundred, probably.

“You’re an idiot,” Oikawa grits out, hair in tangles. It’s a cute look on him, considering he kept his hair impeccably styled at all times. 

“We won,” Iwaizumi grouches, “stop grouching.” 

“ _You were nearly run over by flaming horses_ ,” Oikawa almost yells. 

“But we won,” Iwaizumi points out. Oikawa looks like he wants to strangle him, which is a nice change of scenario since it’s usually Iwaizumi who feels that way most of the time. 

“Chiron is never allowing that game again or I’ll bomb this entire camp down,” Oikawa hisses under his breath, glaring daggers at the empty glass of nectar on the bedside drawer of Iwaizumi’s bed. Iwaizumi manages a dry chuckle. 

“You didn’t have to fight Ushiwaka like that.” Iwaizumi tenses as Oikawa regards him disapprovingly. “You could’ve gotten yourselves killed.”

“He started it.”

“Nobody started it. The two of you were just hot-headed. _Seriously_ , Iwa-chan. You know better than to stir up shit with a son of a Big Three god.”

“I don’t give a flying _fuck_ about his parentage—”

A camp medic tells him to keep quiet with a stern glare. Iwaizumi gnashes his teeth together and looks away, jaw clenching in irritation at the patronizing look Oikawa is giving him.

“Don’t try to protect your fragile boyfriend in a game that’s supposed to be violent,” Iwaizumi grits out venomously. He glances at Oikawa only to see the son of Athena glowering at him. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Oikawa says as calmly as he can through his own fury. 

“Oh?” Iwaizumi’s tone turns mocking, a brow raising. “Then why were you seen leaving his cabin that one time covered in hickeys?”

“Those hickeys were a one time thing, and that’s all you need to know—”

“I already know what I need to know about those marks, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi interrupts, eyes flashing dangerously. Oikawa doesn’t back down. 

“What, then?”

Iwaizumi’s gaze flicks to Oikawa’s pale, swan-like neck before meeting those livid grey eyes again. 

“They’re not mine.”

Iwaizumi could pinpoint the exact moment Oikawa’s breathing stutters. He watches with a sick sort of glee as Oikawa flushes a deep red before bolting, out of the infirmary and away from Iwaizumi.

-

Oikawa is breathing harshly as he enters his cabin, snapshots of Iwaizumi’s fire-filled gaze from the other side of the bonfire flashing in his mind. He curses the Ares counselor’s ability to make him all hot and bothered with just a single look, thanking all the gods in Olympus that his cabin mates aren’t going to return in at least two hours tops, planning to spend the rest of the night setting traps in the North Woods for tomorrow’s activities. 

He makes his way towards the bookshelves, planning to read until his mind grows numb and thoughts of Iwaizumi leave his racing mind alone. 

He hears the door open. 

“Akaashi, did you forget—”

Oikawa stops in his tracks at the sight of Iwaizumi Hajime leaning heavily against the door frame, beads of sweat trickling down his temple as if he ran on his way here.

“Get out,” Oikawa stutters. Iwaizumi steps inside and locks the door. 

“Tell me you don’t want me.” The son of Ares’s voice is a deep, rumbling tenor that sent shivers down Oikawa’s spine. “Tell me, and I’ll go.”

Oikawa looks at him helplessly, all the fight draining from his body as he’s hit with the full force of his sheer _want_ for this man. 

He’s always wanted him, Oikawa realizes. He wanted Iwaizumi the moment they single-handedly vanquished two Colchis bulls on their first quest. He wanted Iwaizumi ever since they tirelessly ran through the streets of New York looking for the missing helm of Hades. He wanted Iwaizumi when they barely escaped from the island of Polyphemus alive. 

“I want you,” he whispers, all those years of repressed longing coming into light with a single admission. 

He hears footsteps hurrying over and he looks up, only to be met with the demanding heat of Iwaizumi’s lips pressed against his own. 

The kiss isn’t gentle, teeth and tongue clashing as they clung onto each other like their lives depended on it. Iwaizumi kissed like he did everything else, fiercely and intensely, as if he wanted to ruin every other man for Oikawa.

Oikawa feels himself being hoisted up by the thighs and slammed against the wall, gasping at the strength behind the maneuver. Oikawa is not particularly slender and Iwaizumi just picked him up like he weighed nothing. It sent a spike of arousal through him, one that ripped a moan out of his lips as Iwaizumi sucked and licked all over his neck and collarbone, their erections meeting as Iwaizumi hitches Oikawa up higher.

Oikawa dimly knows that this is not a good idea, that one of his cabin mates can walk in at any moment and catch him like this, pressed up against the wall with his legs spread for the counselor of the Ares cabin.

But for once, he can’t bring himself to care.

“Which one is your bunk?” 

Oikawa points to the direction of his mattress. Iwaizumi has him thrown down on it in the next ten seconds. 

Flame flickers through their veins as their lips reconnected, Iwaizumi’s weight a solid presence on top of Oikawa’s writhing body. They rip at each other’s clothes, the orange fabric of the camp t-shirt lying in tatters all over the floor as they discard their pants as quickly as they can, moaning out loud at the sensation of their cocks rubbing together. 

“You get so wet,” Iwaizumi murmurs. Oikawa whimpers pathetically at the filthy words, mewling when Iwaizumi takes a hold of his cock and starts to pump it in his fist. 

“Gods fucking damn it, _fuck me_ ,” Oikawa cries out as his back arches, dizzy with the thought of taking Iwaizumi’s sizeable girth. He wants to have it in his mouth, feel it stuffing him full until he can’t breathe, but that has to wait for another time because he thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t get that dick inside him soon.

“Lube,” Iwaizumi rasps out, voice rough with desire. Oikawa reaches under his mattress for the lube and a condom. Iwaizumi doesn’t waste any time, slathering his fingers with a liberal amount before sliding an oiled digit inside Oikawa, making the latter choke on a soundless gasp.

It feels as good as he imagined it to be. 

Oikawa’s nails dug in the broad expanse of Iwaizumi’s back, dragging them down and producing angry red scratches, making the son of Ares hiss in both pain and pleasure. 

By the time Iwaizumi has four fingers inside him, Oikawa is dangerously close to coming. He’s mindless with potent lust, his legs parted impossibly wide. Growling, he combes a hand through Iwaizumi’s hair and pulls him down for a biting kiss.

“Fuck me,” Oikawa pants out, stormy eyes glazed over with a hungry determination, “ _now_.”

Iwaizumi groans, defenseless against Oikawa’s unabashed display of need. He takes his fingers out, the filthy squelch echoing in the cabin.

Iwaizumi rips the packet of condom open with his teeth, sliding it over his cock and positioning himself at Oikawa’s slicked entrance.

Their eyes meet, and Iwaizumi pushes inside.

Iwaizumi muffles Oikawa’s scream with his mouth, his length pulsing inside Oikawa’s heat, and it feels so good, so fucking good, the two of them won’t be able to last—

After a moment of stillness, a hoarse “Move.” from Oikawa sends Iwaizumi’s self-control spiraling into nothingness. 

Iwaizumi fucks him roughly, Oikawa’s teeth biting down on a bare shoulder as his hands map out the tanned skin stretched over bulging muscles. Iwaizumi hits his prostate directly and he keens loudly, wantonly as a continuous stream of begging leaves his kiss-swollen lips.

Oikawa comes first, clenching impossibly tight around Iwaizumi’s cock as he sprays his release all over their bare stomachs, the back of his head digging against his pillow as his eyes prickle with tears at the intensity. 

Iwaizumi follows soon after with a hoarse cry, burying his face in Oikawa’s shoulder as he comes harder than ever before in his life. 

They lay in a tangled heap of limbs, breathing heavily against each other as Iwaizumi groans with exhaustion and settles beside Oikawa in order to avoid crushing him, rolling off the used condom and wrapping it up with a tissue before tossing it on the floor.

“We should clean up,” Oikawa suggests drowsily, already half-asleep. Iwaizumi gathers him in his arms, and Oikawa can hear the steady beat of his heart, lulling him into unconsciousness.

After Oikawa has fallen into deep slumber, Iwaizumi cleans him up with a wet towel and some tissues, dressing him in his owl print pajamas before he leaves the cabin with a smile on his face and a lingering kiss he left on Oikawa’s forehead.

-

The armory is empty save for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, the atmosphere charged with a heavy sort of tension neither of them are brave enough to acknowledge. Oikawa is polishing his daggers gently while Iwaizumi stocks up on spear tips and grabs an extra scabbard in case he loses the one he owns along the way.

The silence grows until Iwaizumi finally can’t stand it anymore, dropping whatever he’s holding and marching towards Oikawa, kneeling down until they’re staring levelly at each other.

Iwaizumi’s eyes soften at the fear in Oikawa’s eyes. He understands, knows better than anyone that this quest is different this time around because they both now have something greater to lose if anything goes awry. 

There’s anger at the absence of their parents, frustration at the persecution tailing their heels the moment they were born.

“We’re going to make it back alive,” Iwaizumi promises, taking a hold of Oikawa’s hand, calloused from the training he’s done all his life. There’s familiarity in the similar rough pads of their palms, a small reminder that they’ve been beside each other practically all their lives; suffering from the pursuit of monsters, withstanding the heat of the afternoon sun in the arena, picking strawberries while the children of Demeter boss them around. 

Oikawa seems to see something in Iwaizumi’s eyes, something that made him relax and fall in love all over again. 

They're going to be alright. They're partners. They watched Bokuto and Akaashi fall in love when they went on a quest to retrieve the Golden Fleece. They survived the encounter with Charybdis at fourteen. They killed a horde of Dracaenae when they were fifteen. Iwaizumi spent his sixteenth birthday in the Underworld with Oikawa, trying to get past Cerberus. Oikawa turned seventeen when they were being chased by Medusa, lured in her trap when she took advantage of their hunger by offering them cheeseburgers in Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium. They got out from the Labyrinth and told the world of Pan's death. They watched many comrades come and go, silently praying that the other lives.

Iwaizumi holds up their entwined hands, the two of them leaning in to kiss their joined fists, a stream of newfound strength and hope firing them up at the reassurance of the tender action.

They’ll make it. 

They always do.


End file.
